Fic: Smooth Like Dark Silk (Mat/Tuon one-shot)

[corrielle]

So... the semi-annual porn battle is going on right now. I went looking for Wheel of Time prompts, and I was sorely disappointed.  There weren't any.  So... I wrote WoT pwp anyway.  In protest.  Yeah. That's why. Totally protest.

Title: Smooth Like Dark Silk
Rating: NC-17
Pairing: Mat/Tuon
Word Count: 316
Summary: Mat pretends not to miss her. Pretends not to dream of her. But he does.
Disclaimer: Not mine, not making any profit.

Her skin is smooth like dark silk under his calloused palms.  Her stomach is taut under the slick sheen of sweat that covers it, and her legs are insistently, possessively clamped around his waist.  Her long, white pleated skirt is crumpled around their ankles.

He remembers, faintly, that he once complained about her, thought her too opaque, too unknowable, too confusing to truly warm his bed.  Tonight, though, he loses himself in the mystery of her, breathes it in, lets it draw him under. He runs his fingers over her perfectly smooth head, fresh from the razor, and kisses her behind her ear.  She shivers, then arches her back and thrusts her hips up to meet his, and he pants the only name for her he knows as he comes inside her.

“Tuon…”

Her long lashes shade her eyes, and she smiles a secret, satisfied smile.

“Matrim…” she murmurs, snaking her arms around his neck and drawing his lips to hers.

It’s MAT, he thinks, but doesn’t say it. The last time he corrected her in bed she reverted to “Toy” for the better part of a week.

Her legs go limp, and he rolls over so that he lies on his side next to her. He places one hand over a pert, firm breast and feels her nipple, deliciously peaked, scrape against the center of his palm.  He grins, wondering what she would do to him if he pinched it…

He never gets too.  Instead, Mat wakes up to some of the Band coming back from a night on the town, singing the lewdest verse of “The Weaver and the Wanderer.” His sheets are tangled around his legs, and there is a small, wet stain on his cot. Mat curses.  He only hopes he was quiet.  If flaming Talmanes has heard him dreaming about his flaming wife again, he’ll never hear the end of it.